And a Cherri on Top
by Marjorie K. Place
Summary: Chris LaSalle resists temptation and the one time he didn't. A cherry themed tale.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This an attempt at trying to break out of my usual mold with a five times story of a romantic semi-smut nature. Special thanks to Beatrix for inspiring me with her story: Hazelnut Magic and to COL for the the title suggestion and the five times formula.**

Chris LaSalle never thought of himself as a stuntman except for when the situation called for taking down an uncooperative suspect. Today, Amos Degrassi was such a suspect. Chris and Brody chased Degrassi and his partner on foot into a multi-level parking structure at the Riverfront Mall overlooking the mighty Mississippi.

LaSalle stepped on the bumper and up on to the trunk, to the roof of a 2007 Ford sedan. The roof bowed slightly under the pressure of his weight before he jump down to the hood and, tackled the suspect to the ground. He hadn't stopped to think about how much jumping from the top of the car to hard concrete was going to hurt. Thankfully, he had the suspect to cushion the blow somewhat.

"Stop movin'" he hollered straddling the small of the man's back and roughly pulling his arms behind him so that he could place the handcuffs about his ridiculously large wrists. He hadn't meant to be rough but when the notorious drug dealer started hurling threats of a law suit for police brutality LaSalle had no choice but to dig his heels in and make his point.

His left knee ached unmercifully as he pulled Degrassi to his feet. The initial result of an old high school football injury that occasionally flared up in moments such as this one. Damn, he hoped he hadn't messed up his ACL again, thinking that he would be icing down the knee tonight, rather than hanging out with the rest of the team at the bar. But after chasing the would be criminals six blocks he highly doubted that he would be able to keep with Loretta and her desire to two-step.

"You're under arrest," he hissed as Brody's voice started to fill his com. 'Suspect number two just went through the back door of the Donut King pastry shop. I'm going inside."

"On my way, " LaSalle left his suspect and ran to assist his partner. Weapon trained, he hit the door of the donut shop in time with Brody letting out a yelp that sounded like she'd been caught off guard or was in some sort of pain. Instantly, the sound of her voice made his heart pump faster with fear. If that bastard had hurt her- Shouldering the door, his foot hit the slick tiled floor, slipping on something wet.

"LaSalle STOP!" Too late he was already falling, sliding across the floor, the movement reminding him of the summer his mother had bought he and two siblings a slip and slide. He and Cade and their sister had a ball hooking it up to the old garden hose and and diving across the long yellow piece of wet plastic. Grasping at the tile his hand felt something wet and sticky. Desperate to keep from hitting the adjacent wall Chris rolled over onto his stomach, pushing up to his forearms.

Whatever the sticky substance was he was now covered in it.

"Don't try to-" Brody could only watch as he attempted to unsuccessfully push to his feet only land unceremoniously onto his backside. "Move"

Chris closed his eyes, staying completely flat on his back until he heard Brody start to giggle. He had no idea where there suspect was or what the heck he was laying in other than that it was dark colored like pooled blood and very sticky.

"It's cherry syrup, " he heard Brody confess as he managed to push himself to a seated position. It was then he noticed that she was also seated on the floor covered in the sticky sweet liquid, but still looking as pretty as always save for her hair. It was wet and matted to her cheek.

Evidentially, a five gallon drum of the sweet syrup had burst prior to their presence ambushing both she and the pursuant. Suspect number two was now out cold on the floor a few feet away from the female agent.

"I think he hit his head." She told LaSalle who was now looking at her with a rather her amused grin over the fact that that one side of her head appeared to be coated in the sticky goo.

"It's in yer hair," he told Merri watching her roll to her knees so that she could handcuff their unconscious mark.

'At least I didn't roll in it," she said straddling the suspect in the same way that LaSalle had. After she finished securing his hands, she gracefully rose to her full height and delicately moved across the floor as if she were walking on ice. Only Merri could make it look that simple and manage to make him look like a giant oaf for falling it. But not in a belittling sort of way. It was just her poised and elegant style.

"Let me help you up," She said with an impish smirk before extending her hand as if she had somehow bested him in some sort of game of skill. But the truth was that Chris LaSalle melted the walls of armor she kept around her heart. Even covered with thick red, sugary syrup, stretched out prone on the hard floor like an invalid he still looked absolutely adorable. She had to admit she felt a little guilty for not being able to warn him fast enough.

"Now that ain't fair," he hadn't meant to roll in the messy syrup like a barnyard pig. With an unsuspecting grin of his own the agent reached for her soft hand, jerking her down on top of him.

"LaSalle!" Merri shrieked as he flipped her onto her back, pressing his torso to her chest, so that he covered her completely with his own sticky red tinted body.

"Now who's rollin" in it?" He quipped pinning her with his intense blue stare. After two years of being her partner he was comfortable with flirting in more than his usual casual manner. With Brody there was that intimate, sensual, side of him that he usually reserved for a lover. There was also a part of her that let him be that way without judgement or threat of harassment. But yet she was neither a friend or a lover.

She was Brody.

More than a friend, a girl friend without the benefits of sex? He wasn't sure. They were in that sort of place where they needed to make a decision rather than dancing around the obvious, that was going on two years of pent up sexual attraction, eating away at their very souls, like nervous undeniable hormonal teenagers anticipating whether or not to hand their young taut bodies over to one another.

Her big soulful brown eyes looked up at him with expectation, almost daring him to take it to the next level. Oh he was certain no matter how he played this he was a deadman. He was damned if he kissed her and damned if he didn't. Knowing Merri she wouldn't speak to him for week but would delight in torturing him with her silence and sexy gaze of disapproval.

He needed to play this right. They were on the job in the middle of a case. It would be unprofessional to kiss her now wouldn't it? But at the same time it would be hot as hell. Too bad their suspect was sleeping nearby and could wake up at any second. Releasing her, he rolled to the side taking her with him, further coating them both in the sweet stickiness.

Merri pressed her hands against his chest, sitting up, holding him in her challenging gaze before dipping her finger into the pool near her feet. Deftly, she pressed her cherry syrup covered finger it over his bottom lip forcing him to taste the concoction that had started an all to familiar fire down deep in his groin.

"Just wait, " she teased purposely popping the same finger into her mouth and drawing it out slowly in way that drove him wild.

Cherry syrup. God Bless the inventor of cherry syrup Chris LaSalle thought feeling as if he had died and gone to heaven.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Here's installment #2!**

 **Frozen Cherries**

Chris LaSalle groaned as he kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his jeans (leaving him clad in a pair of light grey boxer briefs and his classic black t-shirt) before plopping down on his leather couch. His left knee hurt. To top it off it was swollen nearly double the size.

He supposed it had something to do with slipping in the puddle of cherry syrup last week or maybe jumping from the top of a car to take down a suspect. At either rate he was down for the count for the next few days. The doctor at the Quarter Urgent Care had given him a cortisone shot and a prescription for some pain medication then told him to go home and ice it with a bag of frozen peas until the swelling went down enough to put on a supportive brace.

Too lazy and uncomfortable to leave the French Quarter, Chris stopped off at the little market down the street and picked up a bag of frozen cherries. Naturally, the market had been out of peas. He knew that the cherries wouldn't conform to his knee in quite the way that the peas would but for the moment, they would do.

Now all he needed was a cold beer, the remote control, and sweet Merri Brody by his side. What a combination. Though Percy could be a lot of fun at times on the job, Merri was the one he preferred to spend his personal time with, they were bonded in a way that the younger female agent would never understand. Not until she'd lived a little more at least.

The night that Merri had given him her sister's necklace things had changed for the two agents, they were closer now and not just as friends, but as soulmates. Chris could tell Merri anything now and she would automatically understand (not that she still didn't tease him from time to time about things) but they were different now. She was more apt to let her guard down around him and show her fun, flirty side, rather than the all business mantra that she had presented when they first met.

And he liked that.

He supposed that one day, he should actually act like the brave hero everyone made him out to be and just kiss her like any good betrothed soulmate would but there was something holding him back. It wasn't his grief over Savannah. He was over that. It was more like the situation he'd faced with LT. Addie Watkins. Both had wanted to date and explore one another, but the idea of having to still work together if things went sour had stopped them from taking their attraction for one another any further. Now Addie was off half way around the world, married to a Naval Commander and expecting her first child.

Someone she had worked with side by side. Go figure.

The door to the patio opened and Merri appeared, her hands filled with take-out bags. "I know you didn't ask me, but I picked us some dinner. Chinese" she smiled.

Oh shit. He hadn't been expecting her so soon. If he had, he would have never taken his pants off. Frantically, he looked around for the University of Alabama throw that he kept draped over the back of the couch, but of course, it was nowhere to be seen.

Desperate, he reached for the bag of frozen cherries and placed them over his lap as Merri stumbled in, the smile on her face somewhat dissolving. Staring, he could tell she was rather dumbfounded over the fact that his hands were covering a bag of frozen fruit stretched across the upper part of his thighs, covering the thin material of his briefs.

That was until her eyes drifted to the jeans that were pooled in the floor. And there was it, that sexy god be damned he was going to hell, disapproving glare of hers. Automatically, a grin appeared on his face causing her to sniff something to soft for him to hear before she went stalking off in search of the throw which was haphazardly lying across the recliner on the other side of the room.

"Here," she hissed, wavering slightly as she tossed it at him with the take out bags still in her opposite hand, her heels sticking in the grooves of the hardwood floor.

Chris took the opportunity to cover himself as she crossed over to the kitchen so that she could divvy up the food. When she returned, the disapproving glare was gone, her normal, pretty expression taking its place.

Handing him his plate, she sank down beside him. "So, frozen cherries, what's that all about?" she asked making his face go all shades of red in reflection of the moment that had just happened. "They're for my knee," he managed to say, his voice going to bit hoarse before he nonchalantly tore the two chopsticks from their sealed packaging.

Merri carefully plucked a bit of sweet and sour chicken from her plate and delicately placed it in her mouth, savoring the sweet taste. "Really?" she inquired impishly, pausing as if she were about to add something dirty into the already embarrassing mix. Not that dirty was Merri Brody's style, it wasn't but the opportunity was certainly presenting itself.

"I've always heard frozen peas were good for that."

"The market was out of 'em," Chris said, watching her take another mouthful.

Brody dabbed at the corner of her mouth, catching a bit of sauce, that threatened to dripple onto her chin, "you know I can think of better use for those than your _knee."_

Damn, if his face wasn't turning fifty shades of red again. She was trying to turn this into something dirty at his expense by the way she had emphasized his injured knee.

"Yeah, like a what?"

Merri contemplated for a moment holding her chopsticks idle, "A cherry cobbler for one."

Chris narrowed his eyes playfully before allowing his mouth to show off his signature grin, forcing himself not to laugh. "You make a cherry cobbler? Now, that's somethin' I'd pay money tuh see."

Her own eyes narrowed, mimicking his, only not so friendly. "So, you don't think I can bake?"

"Well, last time I was over at your place all of your cookware was still in boxes." Chris said, stealing a fried wanton off of her plate. After two years, of watching the woman live out of moving boxes, he seriously doubted that she could do anything remotely domestic other than dishes and that was only because the two of them usually ended up cleaning up the kitchen after one of Pride's cooking sprees. And laundry, she probably did that too.

"Besides, everyone knows you haf'ta to use fresh sour cherries tuh make a good cobbler."

"Is that a fact?" Merri smiled sardonically, deciding that he could keep his frozen cherries as she rose to her feet. "I'll be right back. I'm going to inspect your kitchen."

His kitchen? Chris' brow furrowed as he made the unforgivable mistake of trying to stand on his bad knee. Wrapping the throw about his waist he hobbled behind her into the kitchen where she noisily started going through all of the cupboards, touching and invading all of his mixing bowls and baking pans with her long slender fingers.

"A KitchenAid mixer, nice," Merri teased looking over her shoulder, "Savannah give that to you?"

"My mother, actually." he returned as she looked back to the cupboards.

"Gotta love your, Mom. All mine gives me is critical advice about my hair."

"I like yer hair." Chris smiled as she moved to the drawers, a tight but obvious smile on her face. He wouldn't tell her, but he loved her hair short when it was cut into the cute pixie bob, leaving her sensual neckline exposed. The longer hair was nice too, but the short, well… it was downright sexy.

Do you have flour she asked abruptly deadpanning any further thought on the matter.

"Last cupboard to the right," His brow furrowed as she moved down the countertop and into his makeshift pantry. "What are ya doin?"

"I am going to make you a cobbler," Brody's eyes widened, slightly as she stared at the clear containers of dry goods, "But it looks like I need to run to the store for some fresh cherries and maybe some more sugar"

"Ya don't hafta…"

"No, I want too," More importantly she wanted to show him that she could bake, and that she could bake damn well. Granted, she had never made a cobbler from scratch but how hard could it be? It was basically a pie in rectangular pan right?

Merri looked down at his hand that was keeping the throw at this waist. "But while I'm gone, you might want to think about putting some pants on otherwise, you still might need those frozen cherries."

Damn. Could she see how completely turned on he was right now? There was no way; she could see through the throw, it was wrapped around him twice. It was a rare occasional that he would be standing half naked in front of a woman whom he'd had no sexual contact, yet neatly all wrapped up in a package waiting to be opened.

He should just drop the blanket, flank her face and kiss her, that's what he should do. It would make things a whole lot less stressful if they just abandoned their reservations and got the job done. Boldly, he stepped forward, as Merri moved toward him, smiling an awkward grin of two people who were about to collide.

"Whoops, looks like you're going to lose your blanket." She teased, giving his bicep a squeeze as she brushed by him, on her way out the door. Chris waited until he heard the door close to drop the blanker and make a fist so he could pound it on the counter top. Good or bad, Merri Brody's cherry cobbler was going to be the end of him.

 **A/N: So what do you think? Can Merri bake? Maybe Chapter 3 will be Cherri Cobbler. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Installment 3: Cherry Pits and Limeade**

Cherry Pits. LaSalle could still taste them, bitter acidic. In fact, he had serious case of indigestion. But he hadn't had the heart to tell his sweet lovely, Agent Brody, that she had neglected to pit the fresh sour fruit before putting them into the cobbler. She'd travelled half-way to Baton Rogue in search of fresh sour cherries so of course, he'd eaten more than one helping of her near perfect, but slightly flawed dessert.

And he seriously felt like he was going to die. Well, that might be a bit of exaggeration. However, he now thoroughly understood why they called the ailment heart burn. The only thing was Merri had eaten some of the cobbler too. He hadn't see her yet this morning and wondered how she was faring.

"Can't cherry pits kill you?" Patton Plame teased, passing the agent a bottle of Cherry flavored Mylanta.

"Technically, yes," Sebastian chimed in as Chris twisted off the lid to the bottle and started chugging the anti-acid whole. "The pit of one cherry contains a cyanogenic compound that when mixed with bodily acids create enough cyanide to actually kill a one hundred-fifty pound human being."

Kill?

One Hundred-Fifty Pounds? He and Merri both fit into somewhere around that category; he a bit over and she significantly less.

Patton and Sebastian were both staring at him now as he held the teal colored plastic bottle idle to his lips, a disconcerting look on his face. The idea that sweet, wonderful, damn sexy, Meredith Brody could have innocently poisoned him with his Mama's own prize winning cherry cobbler recipe was absurd (although, his Mama probably would have thought anyone with good sense would have known to pit the cherry's first).

He himself also knew well enough not to actually chew the poisoned pits. But that didn't mean he hadn't ingested some of what Merri may have crushed putting the tainted cobbler together.

"You've heard of Blood Mary?" Patton quipped, as he pecked away at his key board. "Well we have Cherry Merri. Don't mess with her, or she'll leave you in the pits!" The computer whiz was obviously pleased with himself given the smile on his face, looking like he had just delivered the encore performance on comedy central.

"And guess who her first victim will be," Chris said, mockingly as he headed off in search of his partner in crime.

The Alabama born agent was thankful for the lazier kind of days where they didn't have some sort of homicidal maniac to chase down, but rather at times preferred a simpler, mundane, fill out paper work kind of day. A slow work day would go well with the queasy heavy feeling that was invading his stomach.

"Percy, you seen Brody?" he asked entering the bullpen.

The petite Tulane alum was sitting at her desk, updating a back log of case files. "Called in this morning, Pride gave her day off, said she wasn't feelin' well, something she ate. Cherry something or other," the agent's voice trailed as she remained engrossed in whatever report she had open.

"I uh…just remembered somethin' I got do," Chris did an about face. "Tell Pride, I'll be back in a bit."

Twenty-three minutes later, he was standing on the stoop of Merri Brody's front door step, with a white pharmacy bag in hand. He knew it was a rather odd gesture to show up at her home with a remedy to fix what ailed her, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel a bit responsible. If he'd only picked up a bag of frozen peas instead of the cherries then she wouldn't be sick.

Or would she? What if it wasn't the cherries?

"LaSalle?" She opened the door, a bit bemused, dressed in her white terry cloth robe. It was the one that had big pink daises all over it. Not her most attractive one, Chris concluded, noting that it had some ragged edges and loose threads at the hemline.

"Percy tol' me you weren't feel'in to well. Thought maybe there was somethin' I could do to help." Suddenly, he felt so stupid for having complained to guys about his moderate case of heartburn, when Merri was standing before him looking so sick.

There was a sickly pallor to her normally, cream colored complexion and a dulling of her bright chestnut colored doe shaped eyes, that tore at his heart. He wasn't used to seeing her this way. She was supposed to be eternally miffed at him and poised in that sexy sort of way that said she was both educated but could definitely kick ass when she needed to.

She shouldn't be standing here looking like death warmed over.

"I don't think-" Unable to control the forceful lump forming at the top of her throat, the ill agent, whirled around, spirting down the hallway, in her stocking feet.

Chris heard the loud thud of the guest bathroom door slam as he stepped inside and shut the front door, before tracing her footsteps. For several moments, he stood outside the bathroom door listening to the retching of her poisoned cobbler as it violated her stomach and everything in between.

Then the vomiting stopped.

"Mere," he said, tapping on the door lightly. "Open up, I got ya something that'll help."

"There's nothing that'll help this, Chris." Her voice cracked, a bit muffled through the heavy door. "Thank you, but I don't want you to see me like this."

"I already have." He the pang of guilt slide across his face for grinning, he really shouldn't be grinning. But in a way he couldn't help feel a bit justified over the fact that she had seen him in skivvy's with a bag of frozen cherries covering his manly unit.

"Please just go!" she called out.

"An' if I don't?" Taking a risk, he turned the knob, pushing the door open, to find her curled in herself on the bathroom floor.

"Oh god" she shuddered, turning her face to the porcelain tub as he looked around the tiny space and grabbed a hand towel from the metal rack (of course it had to be the decorative hand towel, not that he cared)

Chris turned on the faucet and waited the appropriate amount of time for the water to warm before wetting her never been used before decorative hand towel, wrung it out, and then dropped to his hunches.

"Here," He was back on his feet, fetching her a glass of water from the kitchen to rise her mouth.

"Thank you," she said, after she spat the cool liquid into the toilet.

Chris reached for the glass, discarding the rest of the water at the sink and then refilled the glass with a small amount of mouthwash.

"Ain't done nothing for ya tuh really thank me for yet."

Merri managed a weak smile as he extended his hand, pulling to her to her feet.

"Ya want me tuh carry ya to the couch? Cause I can if you'd like?" A bit of a red hue started to cover his cheeks, as he realized how brazen he was being, he wasn't really flirting with the ill-taken agent, it was more than that.

Not waiting for an answer he kicked his hand up under her terry-cloth covered bottom and scooped her up. Prince Charming had just rescued his sick Princess. Without protest, Merri laid her heavy head onto his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to take her to the couch.

The living room was a complete wreck, filled with two-year old moving boxes. The coffee table, covered in old scrapbooks, that she had left haphazardly laying around for whenever the need to be close to Emily struck.

That and there was sick people paraphernalia strung out all over the place; a pillow from her bed and an yellow and orange afghan , were both messily marking her spot on the couch. A plate of saltine crackers and a glass of flat Sprite adorned the end table along with the tale-tell pink kidney shaped dish.

"Chris you don't have to clean-" she said, as he gently deposited her onto the middle sofa cushion and immediately went for the dirty plate and the kidney dish.

Now what kind of Southern gentleman would be if he didn't? After doing a sparse set of dishes that were in the sink, he went snooping for her linen closet and returned with a set of fresh sheets and a clean pillow case.

Working around her, he made up the couch with the sheets so that it presented itself more like a bed. That way she didn't have to worry about cracker crumbs or dealing with the cracks that separated the sofa cushions.

"You might not want to get too close," Merri said shyly, as she tucked herself in under the cool sheet and allowed Chris to cover her with the afghan. "I think I have the flu."

"Ya sure about that?" Chris couldn't help but pull his lips into a half grin.

"What else could it be?" She had all the symptoms, plus she'd neglected to get her yearly flu shot. Worse, she'd let herself go beyond the point where she could use Tamiflu. She had no choice now but to wait it out. Five full days of fever and gut wrenching misery.

"Cyanide poisoning. Ya ate the cherry pits that were in the cobbler," he teased watching her face go whiter than the sheet. It was undoubtedly cruel to tease her when she was so obviously sick but he couldn't help it.

"So did you," she tossed back wondering if he'd had his flu shot. The flu would definitely go well with his bum knee and the attractive black brace. Not that she would ever admit but there was this sexy injured in the line of duty fantasy that tended to get her all riled up inside when it came to her partner, not that it happened often, save for slipping in the cherry syrup and a few sucker punches from a wayward suspect, on occasion. Heaven forbid anything serious should ever happen to Chris, but there was this small part of her that yearned to take care of him, heal wounds and keep him in perfect health.

"I know, that's why I got us both this here antidote." He reached for the bag, he had brought with him and pulled out a handmade soda fresh from the old drug store soda fountain. "Cherry-Limeade, it's good for whatever ails ya." He stuck the straw through the perforated lid and handed it to her. "My ma'ma used tuh give it to me whenever I got sick. Tastes real good, going down and not so bad comin' back up."

"That's disgusting." Merri said, trying to hide a weak smile as he perched himself on the edge of the couch.

"Yes, it is but so is eatin' cherry cobbler where _someone_ forgot to take out the pits." He really emphasized the word _someone_.

Merri lowered her eyes, admitting defeat, "you got me there, I suppose. I'll never try to bake anything for you ever again."

But his eyes lit up mischievously, "Is that a promise?"

"It's a cherry promise," Brody raised her cup to a toasting position watching his face go all screwy.

"Cherry promise? What the in the Sam hell is that?" Was his mind in the wrong place or was she really talkin' dirty to him? Going through the motions he gently bumped her cup with his own before setting it down on the coffee table and turning into-

Brody barely brushed her lips over his cheek, hoping he didn't get a whiff of her offensive vomit breath. Although she had used mouthwash, she feared that it still lingered. "Maybe one day, you'll find out."

Sweet Jesus, He really wanted to find out right now. Chris thought watched her pull back, leaning against the pillow he'd fluffed just minutes earlier, looking at him somewhat innocently. In reality, she was anything but. She might be sick, but this was another step in the on going dance which kept them going around and around. There may be some truth to her illness, but yes sir this was a ploy. Damned, if he didn't want to give into it.

Maybe he should?

Oh Hell! Here they were back at square one again.

"Merri Brody, I just may hold ya to that." He said, rising up to kiss to her feverish forehead.

 **A/N: So they've kissed, sort of... And Merri cannot bake. Sorry, my attempt at humor.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Installment four for those who wanted the quick update.**

 **Warning: References to mature content and language.**

"Are those what I think they are?" Merri asked.

Chris LaSalle felt his face flush slightly as he looked up at his doe eyed partner and prepared to answer her question. In his 7 years of working Vice, he had managed to come across just about every piece of drug paraphernalia and adult pleasure items known to man (and woman). Raised in a conservative, Southern Baptist home, at times he found the notion disturbing.

"Ben Wa Balls." Chris reached over with a gloved hand and a set of tweezers picking up the marble size string of pearl colored balls and carefully deposited them into an evidence bag. "They' used as-"

"I know what they're used for!" Brody snapped, feeling a sprint of heat run of up her neck. She might be a little uptight and closed off once in a while but she certainly wasn't an old prude. Evidently, their victim, LTJG Lisa Dean, wasn't either. The fact that she had them hanging out of the pocket of her khaki uniform pants, well that was a bit unnerving.

"I'll get these to Sebastian as soon as possible, maybe he ken-" Chris cleared his throat, he hadn't worked a case like this with a female partner in…

Never.

The fact that his partner was also his emotional affair and well, imaginary lover made the situation all the more awkward, he tried to get the vision of Merri using um…. Desperately, wanted to probe her more on the subject.

But…

"What?" The obvious answer was run them for DNA, but Merri's eyes narrowed in her disapproving glare sort of way. She must be thinking that his mind was somewhere where it shouldn't be which it wasn't. Ok, maybe that was untrue. But still there was no reason for her to be-

Damn if his mouth just didn't go dry, making him at a complete loss for words. They'd found weird things before, they'd found crude things together, they'd even found people in compromising positions, but this.. There was just something about the idea of marbles on a string and Merri that-

His phone chirped to life.

Thank goodness, saved by the ring tone.

"It's Cade, I gotta take it this time," he said rising to his feet and stepping away. This marked the second time this morning in less than an hour. Chris knew he should have taken the call earlier but they'd been working the case. Now that Cade seemed to doing well on his own, Chris had stopped, playing the part of his brother's keeper, allowing himself some slack for not having to run off and deal with the turmoil all the time. Cade was getting better, he really was plus he was back home in Alabama. The distance alone made it hard to keep up with every little upset and set-back.

"Hey, Brother, what's up?" Immediately, he could tell from the hinge in his brother's voice that was something was wrong. That same old feeling of maggots crawling and clawing their way up his stomach was back, combined with the tension in shoulders and neck climbing up his spine, Chris knew it wasn't going to be good. He feared the word _relapse_.

"Just come out and say it, Cade." Surely, after having to call Chris out in the middle of the night and alert him to the fact that a dead body had been placed in the back of his car, anything else was a piece of cake.

Right?

What else was left?

/It's Dad, Chris. He passed away about an hour ago. They think it was a heart attack./

LaSalle was certain that his body reacted just like someone had punched him in the gut. He knew he should feel indifferent to this, he shouldn't have reacted at all. The term Dad was definitely not an option; in fact the word father was debatable, save for the biological piece to the equation. Regretfully, Chris looked so much like him, even more so than Cade.

But what did that matter? The man had never been around except for when it fit his business purposes and he'd practically disowned Cade after learning of his diagnosis, refusing to believe that Bi-Polar disorder was truly an illness. After Cade had gotten sick that's when the real pressure to step up and take over in the family business started, daily bouts of lectures, spouting unattainable expectations. As far as Chris knew he was nothing but a bully and a tyrant. So why did he suddenly feel the need to sport the typical reaction of loss?

He didn't. He wouldn't. Steeling himself, he closed his eyes, swallowed back whatever the hell was threatening to climb out of the back of his throat and politely thanked Cade. "I'm in the middle of a case right now. I'll call ya back later."

/But, me and Mom we-/

Needed him?

He ended the call right there, not wanting to hear anymore. Like the dutiful son he would take care of it, he would, just not this second. Cade and his mom, could lean on his older sister, Cassidy, if they needed to, Lord knew she owed Chris something for all of the effort he'd put into their dysfunctional family and delivering Cade back to them. Like himself, Cassidy was a capable, self-reliant, and a lawyer who dealt mainly with petroleum rights and energy cases.

Go figure.

She might hate him for not dropping everything and running straight home but she could handle this.

He raked a hand over his mouth, before removing his NCIS ball cap and-

Merri's mollifying hand of comfort was suddenly on his back moving down his spine channeling his anxiety. He wasn't sure when touching one another at work became common place but he wasn't going to put a stop to it, especially not now, not when they were so close to, whatever it was they were eventually going to do.

"Everything ok, with Cade?"

"He's good." Chris put on his ball cap and turned to face her, his expression instantly giving something away.

"Why don't I believe you?" Merri cocked her head, she was studying him.

 _Oh shit._

He watched Brody's face fall slightly. Damn why did she have to be so good at reading him? Clearing his throat, he placed his hands on his hips and made his shake it off face. "We should really get back to our vic and see what else the Lieutenant JG was up to before she died."

Brody nodded falling into step behind him. "You know I think Sonja found a pair of edible panties in the Lieutenant's desk, this girl was definitely into her toys."

 _Uh-huh_

"James is coming into town tonight. He wants to have dinner. I thought maybe if you're not busy you could come over afterwards and the three of us could-" she was going to make a snappy remark about a three-way to see if he was paying attention. But Pride's voice stopped her.

"Christopher, can I see ya for a second?"

"Be right there, King" Chris looked at Brody a final time, his mind whirring with the reality of his other situation. His dead father. He almost felt bad for letting it distract his thoughts; he wanted to spend time with his partner after work he really did, and now-

"What did ya say about dinner?"

"Nothing." Brody frowned as Pride called out again, this time with a hint of urgency in his voice.

"I need to go see what King needs." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze before heading off across the crime scene to where Pride was waiting for him at the SUV, arms crossed over his chest.

"What do ya need, King?"

Pride unfolded his arms and placed them on Chris' shoulders, "I need ya to go home. Pack a bag, and get to Alabama ASAP. Do you hear me?"

Cade had called him, Chris surmised, remembering he'd given his older brother Pride's number to use in case of emergencies. He'd supposed this was somewhat of an emergency therefore he could hardly blame Cade for making the call, considering he'd hung up on him. But on the other hand, Chris preferred to keep his personal life somewhat private.

Chris blinked, at his friend and mentor.

"Do you understand me, Son? Your father's gone. Your family needs ya."

When didn't they need him?

"I hear ya, King. But unfortunately, I don't agree with ya. I'm goin' back tuh work the case."

What did he just say? Dwayne King Pride narrowed his eyes, grabbing the younger man's bicep, he knew where this was headed. "Listen to me when I say this, I know how you feel about your father, and if you want to stand here and have a pissing contest over which one of us got the shorter end of the stick, so be it. But I cannot in good conscience let you continue to work this case, not when your Mother and the rest of your family needs you."

"But the only family I need is this uhn, right here." Chris retorted, shrugging his arm free. He would leave, but it would be on his own terms.

* * *

Chris LaSalle had found that there were three staples in life that he tended to turn to when he needed to process his feelings (or more correctly avoid them altogether): women, alcohol and video games. Tonight's choice: the classic version of Donkey Kong and a bucket of cold beer.

The sound of someone knocking on glass in the courtyard barely caught his attention. "It's open."

Merri walked in, wearing a red polka dotted dress. It was the same one she had worn for the Red Dress Run, back in October. In her hands, she held a cake carrier. "I wasn't sure you'd still be here," she smiled, setting the cake on down on the coffee table.

"Then why'd ya bring the cake?" Chris lifted the controller, leaning to his left as if somehow that would help him defeat the giant ape and floating bananas on the screen.

"I thought maybe you could use some company. Plus, I had dinner at the Cheesecake Factory with some friends and I just can't resist their cherry swirl, with the graham cracker crust. So what do you say, you wanna go halves with me on it?"

Halves on a whole cheesecake? Even for him, that seemed a bit excessive. But given the fact that he'd missed both lunch and dinner it sounded doable.

Chris put the game on pause and tossed the controller aside, "Not really, but seeing as you went to all the trouble to bring it all the way over here, well I can hardly let ya eat it all by yer self." He quipped. Leaning forward, he placed his forearms on his thighs as Merri opened the carrier and dug out two plastic forks.

"So when ya leaving for Alabama?" she asked, easing herself down onto the leather cushion before stabbing her fork into the dense cake. They wouldn't bother with plates she decided, as she watched Chris do the same. Eating out of the tin wasn't something she would normally do, but tonight was an exception. She would go a little blue collar just for him.

"In the morning, I uh... just needed some time to process." He said, distantly in between forkfuls.

"I'm not Pride, you don't have to explain." Merri replied, stuffing her mouth full of the sweet, smooth gooey cream cheese and rippled cherry creation. She had learned when Savannah died not to press him and that talking about his feelings were out of the question. Chris LaSalle was the type who preferred to brood quietly, swallowing down his pain. Who was she or anyone else to try and make him do otherwise?

So she hoped that for the moment, just her presence and support would be enough. "You mind if I have one of those beers? This is kind of rich."

Chris reached over and pulled a cold one from the bucket, twisting the top off before passing it to her, "Beer and cheesecake what a combination." He seriously hoped he had some of that cherry flavored Mylanta or some Tums on hand, because they were both going to need it. Even if they just had one beer and one piece of cheesecake, it was likely to end up a gastronomical disaster.

"So Ben Wa Balls what do you know about them?" Merri tossed out, knowing she had just disavowed the last of her self-respecting barriers that had previously earned her the title of frigid with some men.

"Just what I've learned from dealing with prostitutes, and porn girls mainly," Chris didn't realize the connotation to his words until he noticed Merri was giving him the stink eye again, so he quickly rephrased, "Working Vice, I saw a lot of that kind of thing. Sometimes, Pimps would have the girls use em' right before a shy John showed up. Other times, they just like to watch."

"That's disgusting." Merri hummed, watching him grin. Though it probably wasn't appropriate it was good to see him smiling, she imagined that the next couple of days were going to be pretty rough so her partner, whether he thought so or not.

"Not if yer on the receiving end. From what I hear, it can make ya feel pretty good if ya use 'em right." There were many things about working Vice that Chris LaSalle found disgusting and vulgar, the majority of he'd like to forget, but when it came to educating Merri Brody, well that was just something he couldn't pass up. He wasn't a top notch interrogator like she was but he did have his own area of expertise due to his prior career as a Vice cop, that at times came in handy when solving a case.

"There was this one time-" he stopped when he heard the clank of Merri's beer topple over onto the coffee table, spilling, as she reached for more cake. Reaching over her, he grabbed at a small square that had been sitting on the table, now soaked through.

"Oh God, Chris I'm so sorry," she felt like such an idiot when she realized that the coaster she had set the bottle down on wasn't a coaster at all. It was an old Polaroid that had been flipped over so that the photograph side was on the wood of the table. How had she missed that?

Frantic, Merri reached for a handful of napkins that were in the bag and started blotting up the spill. "Let me get the picture," she said, gently taking it from his hands, hoping to save it. But before she could, Chris ripped it out from her finger tips and tossed it to the end table furthest from her.

"It's fine, its nothin'. Just forget about it."

"It's you and your dad, isn't it?" She really didn't to need to ask. She already knew, the picture of a small boy about the age of 6 or so, proudly holding a fish, perched up onto the shoulders of man which whom he shared strong, distinct, facial features. It was an odd thing to see considering that when Chris talked about his family, he normally referred to Cade (ok, mostly Cade), his sister, and their mother.

"It was the day, I caught my first fish," he said, almost breathless as Merri watched his eyes moisten somewhat before he forced the sensation of emotion away, pushing to his feet, "My buckets empty and needs refillin.'"

Brody waited a couple of minutes and then padded quietly into the kitchen where she found him palming the sink, staring distantly into the dark window. Despite his best efforts to stave it off, he was quietly hiccupping.

Heartbroken, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his back, showering it with soft kisses through his thin t-shirt. She felt him squirm which only made her determined to hold on tighter. Where she had failed him a year ago, when his girlfriend had been violently murdered, she would make up for it now. This time, there was no necklace to give; all she had to offer was comfort.

Silent, he reached for her hands that were laced tightly together around his waist and pried them apart. He didn't want to be doing this, not now, not with her, and certainly not for a man that he could only find in his heart to loathe.

What the hell was wrong with him? After 33 years, he wasn't going to go soft now was he? The idea was lost when he turned into her, separating her wrists so that she couldn't continue to hold on to him. His intention had been to gently push her away, so that he could retreat, but he saw her looking up at her with that damn disapproving stare, he couldn't help but glare back at her with the same, narrowed, hard core eyes that she was giving him.

And suddenly she was sinking or maybe he was sinking. It was hard to tell which.

Yanking on her wrists, he heard her squeak. His hands exploded capturing her face, his fingertips gently kneading at her skin. And then he was kissing her. Lord, help him this wasn't the right time to be doing this, not when he was angry and twisted up inside over the person, he felt that had somehow cheated him out of a loving and normal childhood.

But damn, she felt good and tasted even better, the remnants of cherry cheesecake, still fresh in her mouth, combined with a faint hint of beer. He couldn't get enough of it. Her felt her feet, shuffle against his own on the bare hardwood floor, her fingernails start to dig into the tender skin at his waist, making him pull back to soft chase pecks until the kiss finally died to nothing but a flickering slow burn, deep in his groin.

"You should go," he whispered, depositing a final peck to her forehead.

 **A/N: So this is what we know about LaSalle's dad from the canon. Season 1: Cade states that Chris grew up without a dad and Pride sort of filled role/ Pride counters Cade had a part in that as well. Season 2: Dad seems to now be an oil man/worker whatever who pressured Chris to go into the same line of work. He is also powerful enough to get his son a hand delivered message during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. A little inconsistency there between the seasons, so I just combined what we have been given for the purposes of this chapter.**

 **And yes, in season 1, Chris also had a sister.**

 **A/N:II Not quite as fluffy but they kissed! Yeah! One more cherry flavored chapter to go!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner, writing straight romance/fluff is not my strong suit (as many of you well know ;). I kind of ruined the 5x concept by having LaSalle kiss Brody in the last chapter and I debated about where to take them from here and kept coming up with the same scenario. So, I just decided to run with it. No worries, the story still remains on the romantic/fluffy front.**

 **Cherry Lip Gloss**

Brody felt a nervous twinge gathering in the center of her stomach as she walked up the steps of the Baker Bros. Mortuary for the viewing. Suddenly, the thought of driving up to Mobile a day earlier than Pride and Percy seemed like a bad idea.

A really bad idea especially when the last conversation she had with Chris ended with his cold, conflicted words, asking her to leave. That's just what every woman wanted to hear after they'd been pulled into an angsty kiss. A kiss she thoroughly enjoyed by the way and would have enjoyed it a lot more, had he not been so torn inside. Oddly, enough she had been content to honor his request and walk away.

Yet, she was here, even though she knew her partner. When he was hurting Chris LaSalle became detached from the people who care about him the most, turning himself into a proverbial deserted island, a castaway of sorts, preferring to pretend as if he were unaffected by all of the death that occurred around him.

But somehow the cherry cheesecake flavored beer kiss counteracted that somewhat. Instead of turning to a stranger he momentarily poured everything he had into her, putting it all to a screeching halt when he realized it wasn't right.

And that was the part that Merri assumed was crying out for a human connection.

She kicked herself for making a last minute decision and being about 30 minutes late, but Chris' truck was here in the parking lot, so she knew he had to be inside. Hoped he'd be inside. Quietly, she entered the small sanctuary and padded up the center aisle, noting a few people who she assumed were family members dotting the pews. She found Chris sitting alone in the front row, his forearms, resting on his knees, staring down at the floor.

Silent, she slipped in beside him, prompting him to let out a small start as her hip bumped against his, their thighs touching slightly. Smiling she placed, her hand on his knee in a show of support.

At first, she thought she was about recoil when she saw his face, until the slightest of a smile tipped at his lips.

She's only meant to keep her hand there for a moment, but was pleasantly surprised when he covered it with his own, until someone approached him, at which point he promptly jumped to his feet.

A would be mourner. Merri looked away not wanting to intrude as the man offered his condolences. She heard Chris say something in return before he shook the man's hand and then tapped her shoulder, motioning to her with a tip of his head.

He wanted to leave.

She crossed her arms over her chest, walking beside him to the parking lot until they reached his truck. Something was amiss (other than the obvious) she could see it on his face.

LaSalle placed his hands, on his hips before flicking his tongue over his lips. The action was tale-tell sign that he was about to say something serious.

"What are ya doin' here?"

Merri tried to school her facial expression, but regrettably failed.

Wasn't it obvious? She couldn't help but feel the small stab to her heart. Rather than justifying her actions with an answer she simply gave him _the look_ as he looked around before deciding to scratch his head in utter bewilderment.

Why was she here exactly?

And a day early.

That sexy, disapproving glare he got, had come to expect it, really, especially after what he'd done. Kissing his partner and then asking her to leave without so much of an explanation. He deserved a good ass whipping for that. But he suspected that it wouldn't happen here, not if Merri was kind at least.

She sighed, palming his cheek. "If you really don't know, then we have a big problem." Maybe it was unfair to say that and just walk away, but she just couldn't help it. Was her partner really so oblivious to how she felt about him that he couldn't see why she was here?

Given, the man's father had just died maybe he deserved a little slack, but on the other hand she was sick of his little _nothing bothers me, it's no big deal act_.

And it was an act, one that he played well. She knew this because after her sister was killed, she played it herself. Given that respect, there was nothing that Christopher LaSalle could hide from her.

No mattered how hard he tried.

For now, she would give him the space that he was entitled, but as soon as he got back home she was going to take everything she had and literally shove it all down his throat, forcing him to swallow what she hoped would be a rather sweet pill.

She tried not to look over her shoulder as LaSalle followed her to her car, but she couldn't help it.

Curiosity was killing the cat.

LaSalle hung back a few feet as she opened the door to her Ford Focus and reached inside, for the 32oz Cherry-Limeade that was sitting in the cup holder and turned to face him.

Chris couldn't help but look at her a bit befuddled when she presented him with the drink.

"What's this?"

"For whatever ails you," she quipped using his own words against him. "I figured your mother was probably too busy with the funeral arrangements, so I did her a favor, one less thing she has to do."

He looked down, the flesh on his neck turning red, his cheeks about to burst into flames. She had just made him feel like a little boy again with her offer of his favorite childhood treat. Damn, if he wasn't smitten, head over heels for this woman.

"We'll talk about it later," she said, a bit breathy before sliding into her car.

* * *

The next day, Brody sat the back of the chapel with Pride and Percy, not quite sure of what to expect, other than a typical non-denominational service. The small sanctuary was packed, not a seat left, save for a few folding chairs that had been put out along the sides for stragglers.

The music began to play and she saw, Chris enter through a side door, with Cade and their mother, his sister and her husband, following. She was expecting him to sit down but was a bit taken back when he broke protocol and started down the aisle.

Was he leaving?

No…

Oh…oh…God-

He was coming right for her.

Before she could protest he was offering her his hand (in front of their boss, and about seventy-five other people). Merri thought for a slight second, but how could she refuse? It was a cliché move right off the movie screen, but she highly doubted that LaSalle was thinking in terms of romantic comedies. He probably wasn't thinking at all which was how they had ended up in this highly awkward position in the first place.

Or maybe he was thinking…

Was he trying to say something...?

Not that it mattered; there really wasn't time to debate it. Was there? So without missing a beat, she placed her hand in his warm, moist palm, allowing him to pull her to feet.

A few voices gasped, as the heel of her shoe caught a snag in the carpet causing her to stumble.

/Shit/

Well, chalk another one up for Grace!

She sincerely hoped that she hadn't voiced the obscenity out loud as their fingers tangled, and she allowed herself to be paraded up the front row to the family section, where she was being prompted to sit.

Chris' sister, Cassidy, glared heatedly as he told her to move down, making a space for the female agent so that she could sit beside him. Merri smiled awkwardly at the pretty attorney, earning an eye roll in return.

Not that she could blame the woman. Cassidy probably had no idea who she was or why her baby brother would pull such a stunt at the start of her father's funeral.

Merri was wondering that herself.

But given that she had no choice but to play along or be embarrassed even further, she went along with it. During the service, she kept his hand clasp between her own until he leaned forward at which point she slipped her hand free, placing it on his back. Whenever he moved, she had a counter move, one designed to offer him the physical touch so that he so desperately seem to need.

After the service, Brody tried to excuse herself from the receiving line (oh how she tried!) but Chris insisted on keeping her close. It seemed that whether it was appropriate for her to be there or not, she was destined to wait this one out with the family which was ok save for the looks she was getting from his sister and Percy. Pride of course, kept his usual placid poker face expression, while Loretta was all smiles, pretending to be none of the wiser of the strange upheaval that had occurred.

There was to be no gravesite service, cremation with a later scattering of the ashes was the plan so Merri remained, dutifully at Chris' side until they were the only two remaining, the sanctuary was empty now, save for the representative from the mortuary, and the man the in casket of course. She stood looking up at him, waiting for direction.

"So, what do you want me to do, now?" she asked, when he offered none.

Chris shoved his hands into his pockets, hanging his head. He'd blown this, man how he'd blown this. After today, Merri would probably never speak to him again. "Ya, kin do whatever you want to, I suppose." Nervous, he wet his lips, before making eye contact. He started to apologize but Brody never heard him.

She was too busy latching onto the folds of his jacket and pressing her lips tightly to his. She had only meant it to be a one heartfelt kiss, but his tongue darted into her mouth and she was lost.

Blissfully lost.

And this time she would not be sent away.

It was wrong to be kissing the man, when his dead father was lying in a coffin not thee feet away from them, but she wouldn't be swayed. Of all of the talents that her partner seemed to have gained over the years knowing how to kiss a woman was one of his best. He knew just how to-

 _Oh!_

Her knees were absolutely weak, most likely from the fire that was starting to burn in her lower belly.

Whatever Daddy issues he had, or didn't have seemed to be resolved or pushed aside in the moment as his hands settled on her hips, delighted in the rhythmic dance that was her mouth.

And she loved it. Wanted more of it, in fact. A lot more.

They kissed for several long minutes indulging in the caressing of their tongues, until the term disrespect and inappropriate setting started to hum in the back of their minds , eventually breaking them apart.

Chris cleared his throat and raked a hand over his mouth, the faint taste of her lingering on his lips.

"Cherry lip gloss?"

Merri's face flooded with a hint of embarrassment. In her haste to make the viewing she'd ended up leaving her make-up bag at home and had to depend on the corner pharmacy down the street from her motel.

Cherry was all they had. Ok, so that wasn't exactly true.

"Lip Smackers," she dared to admit. The juvenile lip balm had been her favorite as a child and when she saw it hanging on a display, she couldn't resist. She never thought she would wind up making out with Chris LaSalle. Who in their right mind makes out in the middle of a mortuary chapel in front of a dead body?

Apparently they did.

"I guess I'll haf'ta remember that. Get it for your birthday or something," he quipped, his trademark grin tipping at his well kissed mouth.

It was wrong, boy, how it was wrong but it so good to see him smiling; Merri thought as momentarily lost sight of their setting. "So, where do we go from here?"

Chris rubbed his, chin, still grinning like a fool, "Tuh, my Mom's house, there's probably already a ton of people-"

"That isn't what I mean," she pressed. Clearly for whatever reason she had lost all of her senses and was determined to settle the unresolved sexual tension between them and needed to do so right now. If she couldn't have her way with the man she was falling in love with she wanted the promise that eventually, the opportunity was forthcoming.

Sheepishly, Chris rubbed at the back of his neck. He didn't have the answer she wanted, he really didn't. All he knew at the moment that his actions were spiraling all over the place and that he seemed intent on putting them all into Merri.

"Ken we just talk about this when we get back home? My uh...family's waitin' on me." As much as he wanted to he couldn't allow the moment they'd just had to continue anything further, at least not now.

Merri shook her head, in time with bitter laughter "No, not after that little stunt you pulled, parading me up in front of your family. I-"

She stopped herself, swallowing for courage. She needed a moment to find the right words, "I know the timing isn't great, but I'm falling in love with you."

There at least one of them had said it. She'd probably made a fool of herself by admitting it but what else did she have to lose? She'd already been embarrassed in front of nearly a hundred strangers and her co-workers, not to mention Chris' family. Poor fool, she pitied the tongue lashing he was probably going to receive when he saw them again.

But if she was going to stand next to him, while it occurred, he needed to give her something.

Her eyes widened slightly as she stood there watching him with his mouth slightly ajar, trying to process what she'd just said. It wasn't all that hard really. He either loved her or he didn't. She couldn't say for certain, but she suspected that he'd probably heard that from a lot of women (mostly likely in the throws of sex) but rarely said it back to them. Savannah being an exception and maybe another vapid high school or college girl friend along the way.

She could tell by his upbringing however that is wasn't term he took lightly and neither did she. Nervous, her heart started to pound as she watched him finally dip his head, his face breaking back into a grin. She couldn't help but suck in a breath when his hands found their way back to her hips. The tension was mounting as blue irises met brown in an intense stare; one of the most intense she'd ever seen.

Suddenly, his mouth was dry, feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton. He wasn't sure why it felt that way, since he had quite the suave way with women but this...

This was a game changer.

 **A/N: Yeah... I don't know how to tell y'all but I need a 6th chapter to finish this little tale. Is he going to say it back or will something get in their way?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well, here we are finally! LOL. I know you're all surprised that my little love story here didn't contain at least dozen twists, but I did however think it was important to stick with my original cherry/dessert theme. Hope you all enjoy!**

 **Warning: Adult themes and language. I'm leaving this a T because there is nothing explicit.**

"Uh…hol' on tuh that thought."

Chris turned around, pinching the bridge of his nose, the sight of his older sister, squashing any thoughts of reciprocating any feelings toward his partner. He had to admit; even though Merri had gone out on quite a limb by revealing hers he couldn't give her everything right now.

There was just too much going on.

"I'll be right there," he told Cassidy before swinging his attention back to Brody. "Ken we talk about this later?" he asked, swiping the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

Merri blinked and nodded, woodenly. Albeit, disappointed. But how could she blame him? Her timing really sucked. Now, she was being left, stranded at the altar, so to speak. A very morbid altar. But it was her own fault. It was stupid of her to try and move their relationship to the next level at his father's funeral.

* * *

The two days, Chris had to wait before seeing Merri again felt like an eternity. Though, he professed on the Holy Bible of Southern values to be a devoted family type of man, he was never so glad to be away from his mother and his siblings. He'd found the whole funeral and the aftermath to be entirely draining and he couldn't wait to be back home to where things where normal.

Despite his eagerness to want to be near his beautiful partner, he resigned himself to driving straight home, no side trips to the office or Miss Loretta's place, just home. Though, they'd spoke on the phone and texted many times over the past couple of days, running straight to her, seemed to make him feel like a bit of a womanizer, a pig.

He hadn't said those three little words back to her yet, but he knew what was going to come next. They'd start kiss'n. He'd start pawing at her clothes and one thing would lead to another…

So maybe he should invite her to dinner or somethin' to make it seem more natural?

No, that was his usual move. It would seem too cliché. Merri wasn't like the other women he dated, she was special and deserved to be treated as such. He thought for a moment more and then decided he'd debate about it after a nice hot shower and a cold one.

Parking the truck in its usual spot, he entered the house through the courtyard entrance. But what was all this?

The old wrought iron table on the patio was covered with an elegant looking cloth that pillowed a rather impressive place setting surrounded by candles, and a bottle of wine chilling as the center piece.

Merri had obviously been thinking the same thing he had. Scratching his head, he watched as she came out the side door dressed in a pair of cut-off shots and an eggplant colored knit t-shirt. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy faux bun.

"You're early," she breathed, "I haven't had a chance to get dressed yet."

Chris just stared at her, his mouth hanging open a little. She had already exceeded his expectations. Obviously, Merri hadn't been put off by the fact that he'd left her at the chapel.

"What's all this?"

"I cooked dinner," she smirked. "I know you're going to be surprised, but there's Chicken Marsala on the stove and if the house doesn't catch on fire cherry flambé for dessert."

Chris grinned, rubbing at his chin. For Merri to actually break out cooking utensils and some sort of recipe was saying a lot. But for her to actually prepare the meal, that was epic. "Ya did all of this for me?" Hell, if she wanted to welcome him home, a cold bottle of beer and bucket of chicken wings would do just the same with less fuss.

Nervously, she laced her fingers in front of her. "I think we need to talk about what was said in Alabama. I may have said something that I shouldn't have."

His brow furrowed.

"And ya wanna take it back?" How did you take the words _I'm falling in love with you_ , back? Especially when he hadn't even had a chance to reply was she scared? But why go to all of the trouble of cooking and preparing what appeared to be a romantic meal with dessert?

"I put you in an awkward position and I shouldn't have done that," she said gauging his expression.

Chris wet his lips, the way he saw it that statement went both ways, his actions the moreso. If anyone needed to apologize it should be him. "So you take it back, then what? We just go back to the way we were?"

Merri didn't have an answer for that and lucky for her, she didn't need one. The piercing sound of the smoke alarm screamed through the cracked patio door, signaling that something in the kitchen was on fire!

Her chicken!

Together, they ran inside to the smoke filled room, flames erupting from the stove. Chris knocked her aside as she started to reach for the hot pan, grabbing the skillet with his bare hand, tossing it into the sink.

"Ow!" He shook his hand waving it around as Merri grabbed the fire extinguisher from the pantry and put out the remaining flames. Two sets of eyes, looking down at the black charcoal and white foam covered chicken.

"I thought ya made me a cherry promise that ya weren't gunna try to bake for me anymore," Chris reached for the faucet, turning on the cold water, immersing his injured hand. It wasn't burned badly or nuth'n but it sure did sting.

"This wasn't baking it was cooking," Merri countered as he turned off the water and opened his palm for her to inspect. It was red, but didn't look like it would blister.

"Well, maybe ya should've included cookin' too."

Brody glared hard before releasing his hand, giving him that sexy stare of disdain that he loved so dag gone much. If he had to guess, it was probably the one thing about her that he found truly sexy without her actually trying to be that way of course. It was a natural without forethought response that had the power to send him right over the edge each and every time and not just in sexual manner, it tugged at his heart too.

"Damn, I love you, even it ya did burn the chicken," he blurted out without much forethought of his own. And just like that she went from leveling him with her death stare to the big doe eyed look she'd given him at the chapel. Had he just voiced his feelings out loud when she had clearly said she was taking her admission to loving him back?

/Well, Shit./ This was getting awkward again…

In a mutual decision with perfect split timing, they reached for another, slamming into each other's lips. The idea to kiss dirty with wild abandon, struck them both hard, prompting an uncontrolled and somewhat sloppy osculation; a primal joining that seemed to know no boundaries.

Hands were roaming as well (all over the place) greedily seeking and roving unfamiliar parts that had been denied until now. After what seemed to be several long minutes, Chris slowed it down a bit by tangling his hand with one of hers, keeping it pinned to her side.

His eyes were fevered as he broke from the kiss to make short work of the three small buttons on her shirt. He probably could have just hefted it over her head in a Neanderthal sort of way, but he chose not to. He preferred to be somewhat gentlemanly about it although there was nothing synonymous with the term when he thought about the things he wanted to do to her next.

Standing back, he watched her blush furiously as took he a moment to survey her, standing there in nothing but a black bra and her Daisy Duke cut offs. Damn, she was smoking hot. Her valleys and curves, the shape of her breasts were downright gorgeous. A ragged sigh left him as he leaned in to kiss her, hooking his fingers to her waistband in time with the peel of her cell phone.

The phone really?

Do not answer it. Do not-

He hung his head, with a groan, resting his chin on her shoulder, her arms winding their way around his muscular back, both silently praying it wasn't Pride. For several moments they both clung to one another frozen in place hoping it would stop.

"I have to get that," Brody relented, deadpanning whatever was left of their little moment. The moment had left him rock hard and his body begging for release.

Man, the world could be cruel he thought bending to pick up her shirt when she pulled away and went padding toward the table where her purse lay. In a few moments, she would be gone and he'd be left to take care of his problem in another way and when she returned, if she even returned tonight, they would have to start all over again with the awkwardness.

Well at any rate, he'd admitted that he loved her, even if she did take hers back.

He was brooding, arms crossed over his chest, leaning up against the sink when she came back. "Pride?"

"Worse. My mother and she's coming for another visit." She quipped, finding her way back into his ever-loving arms. "But lucky for you, she won't be here until tomorrow afternoon."

Chris grinned into her lips, lifting her slightly as she kicked up her feet signaling it was time to jumpstart their lost moment. "Hang on just sec, there's something I need tuh get." Gently, he set her down and turned toward the refrigerator, reaching for a bowl of fresh vine ripe cherries, carefully tucking them under an arm before he reached down for the pint of vanilla ice cream in the freezer.

"Those are for the Flambé," Merri frowned, as he grabbed her hand whisking her off to the bedroom.

"Darlin' after what you done to that chicken, you ain't flambéing anything, ever-.

"But we are gunna have us some cherries jubilee if you what I mean."

"Oh, I like it when you talk dirty, LaSalle!" Merri giggled earning a rather mischievous look in return. True, when he spoke in a certain nature it tended to tarnish, his Southern values just a bit, sometimes more than others, depending on his choice of language.

Chris set the ice cream on the nightstand and placed the bowl of cherries in his palm. Obviously, the burn he had received earlier was of no concern.

"Oh, this here? This ain't for talk'n dirty, beautiful. This is revenge for lettin' me slip in that cherry syrup and busting up my knee at the mall last week."

"You're sure this is the way you want to start things between us?" Merri cocked her head playfully recalling how he had managed to slather the cherry syrup all over her. If nothing else, this was going to be fun and more than likely messy, (very messy). It wasn't the usual way she wanted to start things off with a new beau, but then again, Chris LaSalle wouldn't be an ordinary lover. He was party-goer and a longtime resident of the French Quarter, so it stood to reason that he preferred a little excitement with his love making rather than just plain vanilla. Hence, the flavor of ice-cream she had chosen (even if the recipe did call for it).

"If ya want, we can have some Pie-Hole Whiskey, pour it on top. Goes real down real smooth over ice cream," he said, ready to retreat back to the liquid cabinet.

Merri shook her head, cherries, ice-cream and pecan flavored Whiskey? Just what was she getting herself into?

When morning came, Chris LaSalle awoke a happy man (sticky, but definitely happy). Merri was wedged securely in his arms, breathing deeply in what he hoped had been a blissful night's sleep. It had certainly been a happy occasion for him, what with her riding him to the point he though his head was going to come off and more than once. All was good between them save for some melted vanilla ice cream and crushed cherry pulp that was stuck to their skin. They really should have taken a shower after that last round where he had allowed her to re-create a love scene from a book she'd been reading. Fifty Shades of Somethin' he couldn't recall the exact name, his head was still spinning from the whiskey shots he'd ingested from her belly button, but whatever they had done in the aftermath had left ice-cream all over them!

Not that he was complaining. He'd rather enjoyed their little tryst, even if it was unconventional for a first outing. But they were just comfortable with each other that way. Tonight, he'd make love to her the proper way, slowly, looking into her eyes, caressing her skin with all the tenderness due her. He'd even whispering sweet terms of endearment into her ear. But for now Merri had been the best cherry flavored dessert he ever had, making his mouth water for a second helping.

 **A/N: I want preface something COL said in her most recent post. Reviews are the only payment that a writer receives. I know that I have been one of the luckier ones in this fandom and that I don't need to ask, I've been blessed with great feedback for which I am grateful but I do think it is important to support the Cherri ship, especially since the canon has given us so few Brody/LaSalle scenes this season. Fanfiction is all we have. It's great to see the new writers coming out and sharing their ideas and plots but they need to be encouraged.**

 **A/N: Did I mention that this was a new venture for me? Writing straight fluff? LOL, it was nice release from the normal. ;) Again, thank you to my muses/mentors COL and Beatrix**


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